


The Jester

by DecayingInRed



Category: Panic Room: House of Secrets
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-12
Updated: 2014-12-12
Packaged: 2018-03-01 05:45:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,583
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2761817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DecayingInRed/pseuds/DecayingInRed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's that time of year, and Jack is causing mischief throughout the mansion - much to the chagrin of the rest of the inhabitants. Both Feather and Nat get caught by one of his pranks and decide to get a little April Fools revenge of their own.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Jester

**Author's Note:**

> Hi guys. I know it's too early to be posting this but I couldn't resist!! Inspired by a few of the event puzzles in the game. Enjoy!!

“Fucker!!” Nat screamed, storming off. Thick globs of golden syrup trailed down her back and shoulders, her hair sticking to her scalp as she furiously wipes her brow to stop any from getting into her eyes.

Jack’s laughter bellowed from the other room. “Nat I’m-” He was cut off from another burst of laughter, leaning against the wooden doorframe. Behind him stood Jim, arms folded and shaking his head.

“Very mature,” he spoke critically.

Slowly, Jack began to calm down, staring at his brother with tears of merriment in his eyes. “Oh come on _brother_ ,” Jack grinned, his breathing slightly uneven. “It’s the one good decent day of the year.”

Jim’s eyebrow arched. “Along with Halloween?”

“Along with Halloween,” Jack agreed.

“You can be such a child at times,” Jim sighed, walking past Jack to go after the enraged Undergrounder. “Clean up the mess you made before Jenny sees it or else you’ll never hear the end of it,” he called out. “And don’t even think of trying anything on me.” Jack smirked.

* * *

In the library, Lance sat on the couch nearest to the fireplace, huddled comfortably whilst reading a thick book. The crackling of the fire was the only sound, apart from the occasional flicking of a page and quite splash from the droplets leaking from the ceiling, to be heard. Turning the delicate page with care, as if handling the wings of a butterfly, Lance could almost hear voices coming from outside the room.

“I’m telling you it’ll work!” Was that Jenny?

A slightly deeper voice spoke up, trying to reason. “It was just a stupid prank, no harm was meant by it.” Jim?

Lance jumped, clutching the book tightly to his chest as Nat burst in through the doors. Her face was a shade of red that he had never seen before…although, he must admit, it was difficult to see with all the gunk stuck to her hair. Sure enough, Jenny and Jim followed suit. “I’m not using washing up liquid on my hair!” Nat snapped, trying to get away from the pair.

“You need to get it out now,” Jenny spoke calmly.

Jim frowned. “Why haven’t you gone to the bathroom yet?”

Nat spun around on her heels to glare at him. “That was the first place I went to!!” she growled through gritted teeth. “But _blondie_ was in there before me. And we ALL know that she’s gonna spend another hour or two fixing her stupid hair!”

Lance knew who she was on about. Ashley was a newcomer, been in the mansion for about a week now. She was vain, obnoxious and a complete nightmare - especially when it came to completing tests. He accepted to help her a few times…which ended with him doing all the work…and using his own blood to open the door for her. It stopped after his third attempt to help once the Puppeteer caught wind of what was happening. Lance shivered as he recalled the growl that came from the speakers as the Puppeteer scolded her harshly for her slothfulness. As punishment he forced her to go complete ten tests with a time limit, on her own, in several rooms. Lance got away with a warning; the maniac told him that although helping friends may help him achieve freedom, choosing the wrong people would only hinder him. He didn’t hear another word from the girl after that.

It took Jim a few minutes before he noticed that the younger man was in the room with them. “Oh, my apologies, Lancelot, I didn’t see you,” he smiled. Lance cringed, like he always did, when Jim called him that. The only people that called him by his full name were his parents, Jim and, on that one occasion, the Puppeteer. Although Lance swore he could hear a tiny bit of amusement in his voice when he listened to the tape as soon as he woke up here at first.

Before Lance could reply, they were interrupted by Nat. “Jenny, stay the hell away from me!” she warned, holding an outstretched arm before her while backing away from the other woman.

“The citrus in the soap will cut through the sugar and it’ll make it easier to wash it out,” Jenny reasoned with a slight hint of irritation in her voice.

Nat still looked unimpressed. Another thick glob of syrup threatened to cascade down her face. With a swift brush to her forehead, she wiped it off on her thigh. Playing with the stud on her lower lip with her tongue from inside her mouth, moving it up and down, she contemplated Jenny’s offer.

“If it troubles you that much, Natalie, then you should just shave it all off.”

The heavily tattooed woman turned around to glare at the camera. “Who asked you?!” she snarled. The Puppeteer merely chuckled in response.

* * *

Later on, Nat stood hunched over the kitchen sink rinsing off the remaining suds. Jenny offered to help wash her hair only to have her hands swatted away. Tan sat by the table along with Lance, holding a red clay cup filled with herbal tea in both hands, one hand underneath and the other by the sides. Taking delicate sips, she watched as the timid young man offered Nan the rat a few cookie crumbs, just like Jenny showed him. The white rat sniffed at the crumbs in his cupped hand with her tiny black nose before taking a nibble. The drain in the sink gave a rude gargle as the sudsy water was sucked in. Grabbing a towel, Nat rubbed her head briskly. She had put on a plain grey t-shirt and threw her syrup-covered black tank top into the laundry basket.

As Nat slung the damp towel around her shoulders, someone cried out from one of the other rooms. “Very clever, Jack…”

The kitchen door swung open to reveal Feather, covered in…feathers.

Tan bit the inside of her bottom lip, trying to look composed. Jenny gasped, Lance hid his smile with the sleeve of his jumper while Nat gawked. Nan paid little attention to the commotion as she devoured what was left of the crumbs.

Jenny rushed over to her. “Jack did this didn’t he?” She didn’t need an answer. “…And he used the rest of my golden syrup!!”

Feather frowned. “You mean to tell me that you’re more concerned over shortages of golden syrup instead of the state he left me in…?”

“I asked the Puppeteer if I could have some syrup,” she admitted sheepishly. “I found this amazing cookbook in the basement and it had a lot of really good recipes that required syrup and I wanted to try it out…”

“That’s all well an’ good,” Nat said. “And I don’t know about you guys, but I want to make the bastard pay. Plus I never want to hear that sticky shit for the rest of the week.”

“I hear he caught you too?” Feather asked, picking off the worst of the feathers from her face.

“Yup, and do you wanna know what? We’re gonna catch him before the day is out.”

“So you have a plan?”

Nat grinned with a wild look in her eyes. “Of course. But first-”

“YOU BLASTED IMBECILE!!” Ryan thundered.

Hurried steps reached the kitchen. Jack entered and stepped behind Feather, careful to avoid making contact. Everyone became confused; the expression on his face was a bizarre mixture of fear and giddiness. Nervous eyes stared at the open door as he slowly came around the table until he stood behind Tan. There were muffled voices in the hallway as two more people entered the room. Jim came in and gave his brother a stern look. Ryan pushed the elder Firewood aside in order to face Jack. Cream and white frosting with bits of sponge covered his face and hair, his shirt and jacket completely destroyed.

Holding both hands up in defence, Jack smiled nervously. “To be fair, Ryan,” he started, backing up against the wall, “the cake was meant for Jim.”

“Mature,” Jim sighed, folding his arms and frowning.

Jenny’s eyes widened. “Please tell me you didn’t…” Her voice became shrilly. “That cake was meant for someone else!! I spent ages making it!!”

Her outburst went ignored. Ryan continued to say nothing. His sharp eyes sent a thousand unspoken death threats to the leader of the Underground. His thin lips were pulled back into a snarl, his skin pale with rage. Jack let out a nervous laugh, causing something to snap within Ryan.

“You _bloody_ ignorant FOOL!!” he roared, pointing a skeletal index finger. “If you ever – and I mean EVER! – try something like this again, I’ll have your head as an ornament hanging up in the attic. Do I make myself clear?”

Jack scoffed. “You’re worse than the psychopath at times, do you know that? You can be so over-dramatic. It isn’t a big deal – besides, this gives you another reason to take another one of your ridiculously long baths. So quit complaining.”

Ryan glowered at him for a few moments before storming off with a grunt, muttering threats and other unpleasantries under his breath, leaving everyone in silence. Everybody stood rigidly except for Tan, who continued to casually drink her tea. Once she was finished, she placed the cup gently on the table and slowly stood up. She gazed at Jenny. “Thank you for the tea, I enjoyed it very much. Perhaps we can arrange another day to enjoy tea again? Now if you would all excuse me, I must go after him.” She gave a small yet humble bow before walking towards the door. Just as she approached the doorframe, she turned to face Jack. “I would advise you to avoid him for the time being,” she spoke calmly, her voice barely a whisper. “It will avoid unnecessary conflict.” She gave him a small polite smile then walked off.

Lance shifted nervously while getting up off his seat. “I sh-should go,” he stuttered, following the Japanese girl out.

Feather sighed. “Same, I need a bath…” She shot Jack a look before leaving.

Jim groaned, pinching the sides of the bridge of his nose, eyes closed. “For such an educated man, you can be such a child. So who else did you catch today?” he sighed, dreading the list that was about to come.

“Um…” Jack scratched the back of his head. “I tried to catch Bill, but the old man is like a bloodhound, he snuff me out before I even got a chance.”

“Anyone else?”

“A few others,” Jack admitted. “A couple of newcomers, some of the Followers, some of my crowd…” He glanced at Nat, who had her tongue poking at one of her cheeks in contempt, hands on her hips, tapping her foot.

Jim looked at his brother. “Okay, last one: please tell me you did not try anything on Alice.”

“Are you kidding me? Although I have no intention of starting a family in the near future, I _would_ very much like the option of having so.”

Giving a small laugh, Jim threw his head towards the door. “Come on, you need to clean up the mess you made.”

“Alright, alright…” Jack groaned. As they were leaving, he stopped to sniff the air. “Why is there a strong scent of lemon?”

“Screw you!” Nat growled.

* * *

In the kitchen later that night, Feather carefully placed the small bucket on the small shelf they had just put up over the door, standing on her tiptoes on one of the chairs. Lance flashed the torch around the place, doing the test silently and swiftly. “You almost finished?” Feather whispered, gingerly stepping off of the chair. Lance stopped to face her. “Not you, keep going.” He nodded as she lifted the chair and carried it back over to the table in order to avoid making any noise.

“Yeah I’m nearly done.” Nat wrapped the wire around the nail she put near the end of the doorframe. Once standing, she leaned over and gently tugged at the string attached to the bucket to make sure it was taut.

“Careful!”

“I am!”

The bell _dinged_ , signalling the end of the test. “I’m d-done,” Lance whispered.

“We know!” Nat told him quietly. “Now get behind the table and grab the screwdriver and hammer in case he notices.”

They crouched down and turned off the flashlights. They needed to stay hidden and, more importantly, silent in order for this to work. For this reason Lance was chosen to do the test while Feather and Nat set up the trap. “Are you absolutely positive that he’ll be coming this way?” Feather asked.

Nat snorted. “For the fourth time, yes! He _always_ goes to the basement at night to finish off whatever project he has.”

Afterwards they said nothing, listening intently for footsteps. The only light that was in the room was the blinking red dot from the camera as it turned left and right. Eventually Nat became bored and looked over to where Lance should’ve been. “So tell me,” she whispered, “why did your folks name you ‘ _Lancelot_ ’?”

Feather shushed.

He tugged at the frayed threads of the cuffs of his sleeves. “T-they…were b-big into m-m-medieval stories.”

Feather shushed again, harshly this time.

“Wow,” Nat’s voice was teasing. “So your parents were dorks too!”

“Shut up!” Feather hissed. “Someone’s coming!”

The thudding of heavy boots echoed in the hallway. Light seeped into the room, yet the trio remained hidden as a silhouette stood by the door. They held their breaths as the figure lifted his leg to take a step…only to break the tripwire and quickly jump back. The string pulled at the bucket, sending it crashing on the tile floor; a dozen eggs falling out and scattering everywhere. The figure switched on the light and peered at the table and chairs. Jack tutted and shook his head, clearly disappointed. “Really, Nat? I thought you would do better than this.”

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me…” Nat breathed, staring incredulously at him.

Feather shot up to face him. “How did you…?”

“Well, it was hard not to notice you running around getting supplies, not to mention all the noise you made while putting up that little thing.” He jerked his chin up towards the shelf above his head. “Besides… I was expecting it. Now, if you’ll excuse me I have work to do.” He smiled. “Amateurs.”

Strutting over to the door of the basement, with a smug smile still plastered across his face. He reached out for the doorknob and-

**_Bzzzzzzt!!_ **

Jack screamed and stumbled back, slipping on an egg yolk and dropping, ass first, onto the rest of the eggs. “What the-” Getting back up, Jack tried again.

**_Bzzzzzzzzzzzt!!_ **

Recoiling his hand away with a yelp, he looked over at the other three dumbfounded. Feather was howling with laughter, Nat was unable to breath and Lance’s shoulders shook uncontrollably as he giggled. “You did this!” Jack cried. “You rigged it so that it would electrocute me! How could you?!”

Nat furrowed her eyebrows. “Actually no…” She glanced at the other two, who shrugged and shook their heads. “As much and all as I would love to take credit, none of us did that.”

Jack just stared at them, eggs dripping off of his shirt and backside. “Then who…”

Laughter filled the room, reverberating throughout the house from the speakers, waking everyone from their sleep. “April Fools, Jack,” the Puppeteer sniggered.


End file.
